


Super Heroes Suck, Super Villains Blow

by DragonflyxParodies



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Bad Decisions, Comedy, Dysfunctional Relationships, F/F, F/M, Ganondorf just wants to help, It's Only A Little Complicated, Lies, Link's Still In The Closet, M/M, Midna is Bad Ass, Nobody Can Social, Romantic Comedy, SHEIK HAS A DICK, Stalking, Teenagers, Terrorism, Violence, everyone is awkward
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-09 11:13:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7799518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonflyxParodies/pseuds/DragonflyxParodies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That awkward moment when your arch-nemesis starts hitting on your best friend when he's a super villain and stalking him when he's not, and you still haven't told aforementioned best friend you're gay. Or that you've had a crush on him since you first met. In which dysfunctional teenagers with superpowers are dysfunctional teenagers with superpowers. SUPERHERO AU, many plotlines!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. He Has A Stalker?

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY SO BEFORE YOU READ YOU JUST HAVE TO UNDERSTAND that this story will have a bunch of different plotlines going on and skip around between them, which take place at different times and such...the names of the chapters might help you but some of them are just for fun lol. I try not to clarify things outside of the story, but let me know if something isn't making sense and I'll explain it better! I promise! I post this on FFN too and I've got some questions there, so I think I might do a thing to better explain the superpowers and such.  
> Anyway, enjoy!

               “Hey, are your parents home right now? F—fuck, sorry, your grandma, I was going to call Zel and then I started panicking and just called you. Your sisters? You?” Link blinked for a moment. Sheik sounded more than a little rushed, panicked, and nervous—which he never was. Sheik was the most chill person Link had ever met, except for maybe Midna, and it took a _lot_ to get him upset, or even worried.  Easy to piss him off, but…

“…I’m home. Linkle’s in the den with Aryll and her friend. Grandma too. Why? What’s wrong? You okay?”

Sheik let out a slow, shaky breath, and Link felt his blood run cold. He swung his legs off of his bed, leaning forward, and jabbed the remote with his free hand. The television went black, the chatter of whatever the fuck he’d been staring at for the past twenty minutes going silent.

“…So don’t freak out. Well, no, freak out, I’ll be pissed if you don’t, but—okay, so, firstly, I’m staying on the phone with you ‘till I get there. So do not hang up and I swear to the fucking Three if your phone dies I will fucking kill you, got it?”

That made him frown. Sheik usually called Midna when he knew he was being paranoid about things, or thought it safer to be talking to someone instead of not.

“Sheik—“

“No, Link, if this call drops or whatever the fuck, you call the fucking cops. The Hero, I don’t fucking know—somebody. ‘Cuz I’ll probably be dead.”

“What the fuck is going on, Sheik?” It wasn’t really a question, more of a demand, and Link was on his feet before he knew it, gaze darting to his closet and the box he kept hidden at the bottom of it because Sheik sounded terrified and if he was in danger Link was going just fuck it and go down there without his—

“I have a stalker.”

_….what?_

“ _What!_?”

“A week ago I got this letter. Unaddressed, just a blank envelope. Wasn’t really thinking, so I opened it when I got upstairs. Just had this notecard, completely blank except for the word ‘hello’. Typed, like, with ink—typewriter, not computer. So, you know, whatever. Linkle’s always playing around with those mystery things so I figured she was just being herself. Threw out the rest, because you know I don’t have time for that shit with exams coming up. Then I got a few more, and they started coming more frequently, then finally this envelope arrived, also unmarked.”

There was rustling, Sheik’s voice shifting as if he was moving a lot while speaking. Packing, Link realized. _He was still at the apartment?_

“Sheik—“

“No, just—just listen, okay? I mean—I’m not stupid, I changed all the locks and shit and—deadbolts, okay? Blew my paycheck on that shit, started setting shit up in my apartment because I’m a paranoid fuck.”

“Wait a minute, Sheik—”

“There was a bunch of pictures, Link.”

“…I’m grabbing my keys.”

“No, I’m already out the door. Pictures aren’t what’s making me leave.”

“How’s that—“

“They weren’t of me in the apartment or anything. In class, at the café, walking places, and going into the apartment, but that was it. I was still thinking it was Linkle, so I grabbed the rest of the notes—‘cuz you know recycling never comes, so they were still hanging out in the bin—and read through them. Weird shit.”

“Like?”

“Asking a bunch of questions. ‘Is your favorite color blue?’ or ‘Is your favorite drink a smoothie’ and shit like that. All right—or, you know, as right as they can be, with me—but all posed as a question. Like, what? Am I supposed to respond to that shit? Fuck that! Fuck no!”

“So there’s someone—“

“They were in my apartment last night. Or this morning. I woke up really late.”

“…Where’s Midna? Is she—“

“No one’s with me. That’s why I’m going to your place. Probably wouldn’t have noticed, but the asshole sat in the squishy chair. Rolled over and saw the ass print and called you.”

And Link realized why Sheik wasn’t calling the cops. No one would take that as evidence, or notes asking seemingly innocent questions without threats seriously. And they wouldn’t take anything Sheik said as the truth, either. But he would. Midna would. Linkle would. Especially because of the squishy chair—they took anything to do with it _very_ seriously.

Zelda, too, but she’d try calling the cops first thing and that would put them back at what they were trying to avoid. Or, Sheik was, anyway.

“Did they threaten you or anything?” Link asked, and he closed his bedroom’s door behind him quietly, squeezing his phone tightly as he waited for a response.

“N—no. That’s the issue. Part of it, anyway. I take the breaking into my house as a threat, y’know, but…”

“And you changed your locks before you woke up?”

“Yeah. After I saw the pictures. Like…two days ago.”

“Did you call Zel?”

Sheik let out a slow breath, and Link could almost hear him shaking his head.

“No. I don’t…before this shit started she walked in on Midna trying to take my pants off, and Midna…” Sheik trailed off, voice dropping as he nearly mumbled it.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Midna would’ve been…absolutely crushed. And Zelda mortified.

“To be fair, we weren’t fucking or anything. She’d been playing around and dumped one of those stupid juice boxes on my lap, and freaked out because she hadn’t intended to go that far.”

“Sounds about right. So, what? Zel’s been avoiding you since?”

“My sister saw my junk, Link. I don’t really want to see her right now either.”

That made Link blink, his face heating as the image came to mind.

“Thought you said she was _trying—_ “

“Well when I saw Zelda standing there I sort of stopped trying to hold my jeans up and Midna had grabbed my—I can’t keep talking about this. It was bad. Just leave it at that and don’t ever mention it again.”

He laughed, though the sound was strained. Sheik was trying _hard_ to alleviate the tension in the air. He was upset, scared…but it wouldn’t be much longer before he arrived, if he was running. Link _would_ stay on the line with him the entire time, but…it was good, that the subject was being changed. Talking about it would stress him out more, until he was safe.

And Link was going to murder whoever was scaring his best friend that badly, once Sheik was safe.

“You guys really gotta pick a thing to go with, though. Sister or cousin.” Link said, forcing his tone to be lighter than it was, and he leaned back against his door. Sheik let out a sound that was halfway a noise of protest and halfway a laugh.

“No, it doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does. Oren came into the restaurant yesterday and was asking about it, I thought she was damn near ready to start yelling incest.”

“Then just tell people she’s _like_ a sister. And tell Oren to stay the fuck away from her.”

“You’re mistaken, my friend. She was fishing for you.” She had also accused Zelda of being a whore, but Link had put a stop to that pretty damn quickly. Unfortunately, working as a waiter meant that he couldn’t tell her to get the fuck out of the diner, but Yeto was kind enough to do that himself.

“I’m not going to even dignify that with an answer.”

“You just did.”

“…Somebody spray painted our wall. More of that Hero shit.” Sheik muttered after a moment, sounding irritated.

Link winced, inwardly, but was glad he was that far already—Sheik was _fast_ when he wanted to be.

“You really don’t like him, do you?” He asked, and congratulated himself on keeping the tension in his voice to an absolute minimum.

“I know you think the guy breathes rupees, Link, but _seriously_. You let one kid start a fire and everybody’s doing the same damn thing and _now_ look. We’ve got the Shadow and the Chaos Witch and the Dark King and the Usurper and that sadistic diamond fuck, and none of them are sitting around playing nice with Castle Town or its people. I swear to the Three, most of them are just around because of the Hero or the—shit, what’s her name? The Twilight Queen? And the other one?”

“You know more bad guy names than you do superheroes. That’s a problem, Sheik.”

“Because they go around murdering and killing and stealing and blowing shit up! The rest of the suckers aren’t an issue because they don’t do anything!”

“They try to stop them, _succeed_ most of the time—“

“Yeah, yeah, I know, please don’t lecture me. Got nothing against the dumbasses, but they’re stupid. And you’ll help me spray paint over that shit, right?”

Link winced again, out loud this time, and sighed.

“Yeah. What color? I think we’ve gone through the entire rainbow alre— _no_ , don’t even _ask—“_

 _“_ We haven’t done _all_ the colors! Let’s do it!”

“We’re not painting a rainbow—“

And then Sheik said two words that pretty much shut down any argument Link could have had.

“Splatter paint.”

“…Doing this tonight or…?”

“…I’ll call Zel. Gotta do that soon anyway, I haven’t checked in with Syrup in a while. Unless you want to…?”

“Not happening.”

Sheik had refused to move in with Zelda, after his aunt had died. He wanted nothing to do with his other aunt, Zelda’s mother, even though she’d made the offer—which had spoken volumes for her character. He respected her, Link thought, but…he was strange.

“But she’ll—shit, we can’t tell her about this. The stalker. I finally got her off my back about the morgue!”

Link didn’t know what the issue was—Sheik did not like talking about his past _or_ his family issues, and neither did Zelda—but he knew Syrup thought it was inappropriate for him to work with corpses, or to enjoy his work as much as he did. He and Zelda had considered it a triumph, when she’d stopped telling him to quit his job….mostly because Zelda wanted to be a police officer, and Syrup was set against that as well.

“Sheik, this is a serious issue. You’ve got to—“

“Do you know what she’ll do!? She’ll kick me out of the apartment—“

“You’re an adult. You pay your own rent, and—“

“Do you really think that’s going to stop her?!”

No. No Link did not. Sheik’s aunts were terrifying, and they had connections. Zelda’s mother especially. He left the hallway, waving a hand at Aryll when she started trying to talk to him and stopped in front of the front door.

“If something happens—“

“That’s why I called you!” And that shut him up.

“I—Zelda will go to the cops, and I’m still kind of convinced Linkle’s just being an asshole, and I do not want Midna to…you’ll know what to do, if something happens, and I’m on your street right now anyway so it doesn’t matter, but…I don’t know. The—and I’m so _pissed_ , but—“

Link pinned the phone against his shoulder, glancing up as Linkle stepped into the entry hallway, and pulled the door open.

Sheik stood there, hunched over his phone as he shifted his backpack over one shoulder, and his head snapped up so quickly, so violently—

His ruby eyes were huge, fingers clenching and unclenching around the phone and the strap of the backpack, expression tight and he was _shaking—_

Link put his phone onto the table at his side and Sheik fell into him, burying his face in Link’s shoulder.

“Link—Sheik? Hey, are you alright?”

“You haven’t been messing with my mailbox lately, have you?” Sheik asked, voice muffled by Link’s shoulder, and though he was pressing as tightly as he could into Link, it didn’t take much to get him to shuffle into the house and shut the door.

“Mailbox? You realize that that’s a felony, right? And no, why? Did Midna subscribe you to the Milk Bar’s mailing list again?” Linkle asked, lips quirking upwards into a grin.

Sheik shifted, lifting his head only enough so that his eyes peered out over Link’s shoulder at her.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Can we not talk about it right now?” Sheik’s voice was still muffled, but he sounded tired.

“Will you call Midna? And Zelda? Get them over here for the night? More people the better, I think.” Link said quietly. Linkle nodded, knowing something was going on, and picked his phone up before going into the kitchen.

He had never seen Sheik that scared before.

Aryll spotted Sheik and bolted out of the living room, slamming into his legs, Agitha not far behind her.

“I wanna hug Sheik too!”

“Me too!”

“…Thank you, brats.”

“We’re not brats!”

And, slowly, the tension fled Sheik’s frame.

“…We’ll deal with this tomorrow, okay? Let’s just chill tonight.”

“’Kay. Thank you, Link. I just—thank you.” He pulled back as he spoke, pressing a fist to his eyes and ducking his head. Locks of gold hair fell in front of his face, slipping free of a bun he’d tied on the back of his head.

“…So we’re painting tomorrow, then.” Sheik added, before Link could say anything, and dropped his hand as he forced a quick smile onto his lips.

Link swallowed, nodding as he looked away.

Link was going to make whoever was doing this to him _wish_ he would kill them.


	2. Two Weeks Prior (He Didn't)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a very hormonal teenager makes a very bad villain, and a good-looking stranger makes a very good conversationalist.

               It was around the time he realized that Fi sort of never left Sanctuary and wasn’t tied up anymore that he started getting interested in love. Cia never talked about his father, and Ganondorf wasn’t the ‘fall-in-love’ kind of guy, and Zant was…whatever the fuck Zant was. So he’d asked Fi how she’d known she loved Ghirahim. How she’d known he was ‘the one’.

He remembered how wide her eyes had gotten, and for someone as perpetually calm and collected as her, that had surprised him.

She hadn’t answered him. So he’d turned to the internet. That had been little more than a stream of constant bullshit, but one of the more common phrases came to mind then, as he watched.

_You won’t be able to look away from them_.

And he couldn’t. Or didn’t want to. Same damn thing.

The blonde was absolutely fucking gorgeous, and ridiculously fast. Running up to the bus and helping people out, helping to drag them to safety if they were unable to get away themselves. He wasn’t one of the usual do-gooders, though. He looked _pissed_ , and kept jerking his head up to look at the battle raging above their heads.

Cia was keeping the Twilight Queen busy, while he kept the bus where it was—every time he battled the Twilight Queen it ended up as little more than a bitchfest, because their powers couldn’t really hurt one another as they both held sway over the same exact thing, just in different ways. But they only needed the one guy, and Dark had him strapped down in his chair with the shadows—he wasn’t getting out of the bus anytime soon. So the blonde could do whatever he wanted, because they didn’t need any of the other civilians—in fact, they would prove more of a problem if they stayed.

And he was very satisfied with just watching. Eyeballing the blonde’s ass was very rewarding, and the way he was moving…well, that was putting nothing but dirty thoughts in his head. The good sort, too.

Cia let out a furious shriek and he looked up, if reluctantly, to see a Gate tear open right in front of the Twilight Queen, a swirling vortex of black, purple, and pink surrounded by an intricate frame of glowing pink symbols. And then the Twilight Queen’s magic encased it, a midnight black portal laced with threads of neon blue, swallowing it up like it was nothing. Both women went reeling, the cost of such magics taking their toll harder than either had expected, it appeared. Their powers were sort of similar too, but Cia could do some actual damage, and she was always up for a fight with the other woman.

Something pinged off of his forehead, and he whipped around, snatching the object with his shadows.

It took a moment to process that it was a crushed pop can. And then his bloodlust faded, because _thank you Din_ , the blonde had thrown it.

He fell back into the shadows and appeared right in front of the blonde. It might have been more intimidating to appear behind him, but Ghirahim always took far too many liberties when he did so, and Dark had always had a policy of doing nothing similar to what he did.

And the blonde didn’t even look spooked. Just pissed, one hand clutching the bus’s window frame, other fisted at his side. He looked to be about his age, with beautiful eyes, red as blood and brilliant as rubies. He wore tight skinny jeans and a white dress shirt covered by a navy vest, and then running shoes, all of them scuffed and a little bit torn and stained with blood. His hands were bleeding, too, dripping little rivulets down the silver metal of the window frame.

It was very, _very_ attractive.

“That wasn’t very nice.”

“I don’t know what you’re doing to the fuck in the back of the bus and I don’t care, but everybody up front is _your_ responsibility. So get in here and help.”

That made him blink in surprise. And then grin at his audacity. And—his _voice_ , mother of Din, was almost more attractive than he was himself. With the slightest hint of a barely-there accent Dark couldn’t identify…

“Sweetheart, what makes you think I would—“

The blonde reached up, grabbed a fistful of Dark’s chest, and yanked him after him into the bus.

He sort of gaped at him. It was sort of public knowledge—meaning Dark made no attempt to hide it—that his form was made out of shadows (when he was on the clock, anyway), but no one ever, not even the Hero, seemed to realize that they were tangible too. That the blonde had, and even that the blonde was so carelessly making demands of him and dragging him around was….

But, regardless. The blonde was pointing to the front of the bus, which had been pretty badly damaged. Some of the seats had been crushed back…and there were four people trapped between them, one awake and begging for help and another barely seeming conscious, the other two out cold. Alive, though. The bus driver was little more than a dismembered hand lying at the bottom of a squashed gore stain, though.

“I can’t get them out.”

“So?” Dark got the idea, that the blonde wanted him to help pull the injured out of the bus, but _still_. He was a _supervillain_.

The blonde let out a frustrated noise, and turned to face him rather than the injured. Dark liked that, the sudden sharp attention he was paying to him.

“Their deaths will be on your head.”

Anxiety hit for a moment, and then rage.

“I haven’t killed anybody yet, sweetheart.”

“Which is why you’re going to help me get them out. Don’t know what shit you have with the Hero, I don’t care. Don’t care that you don’t ‘directly’ kill anyone. You’ll have directly killed these people if you turn around and leave now. So.”

He didn’t even look smug about it, or victorious, or…anything, really. Not even angry anymore. Anxious, sure, but considering what he’d just done, anyone would be.

“What’s—”

“If you call me sweetheart one more time I’ll lock you in this bus with their corpses.” Which was a very strange threat, and the blonde must have recognized the way he was staring at him because he blushed, suddenly, and _thank you Din_ , because he was even hotter like that.

“I’m not going to do this for free, doll.”

And those brilliant red orbs narrowed, expression absolutely flat.

“Bullshit.”

“Tell me your name.”

Surprise lit his eyes, lips pulling down into a frown.

“No.”

Well.

He reached forward, caught the blonde around the waist and pulled him right up against him, unable to stop grinning as he slipped his wallet out of his back pocket and flipped it open. And even though he wanted to, he was very careful to not touch the blonde anywhere else. That would have been rude.

“Sheik? Did I say that right?”

He disappeared, falling into shadows and reappeared closer to the people he was supposed to be helping out, but the blonde recovered from the missed punch and turned quickly.

_Fuck_ , he was fast. He’d almost gotten socked in the mouth.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?”

Cia would agree. When he got out of the bus she was going to be furious with him. The Twilight Queen was a bitch to handle, even when Ganondorf came out to take action against her.

He tossed the blonde’s wallet back to him, still grinning widely.

“I like you, Sheik.”

“That makes me uncomfortable.” He replied dryly, and Dark laughed.

“I’ll help you. Even if you didn’t _tell_ me your name.”

“Excuse me for not wanting a psychopath to know anything about me.” But even as he spoke, he was preoccupied with trying to push a seat back enough for one of the injured to slip out. The wallet wasn’t in his back pocket anymore, though Dark didn’t know where he’d put it.

Dark’s lips twitched upwards, and he pulled all four into the shadows, depositing them somewhere outside. Sheik let out a yelp, and Dark pulled him back before his hands were crushed as the seats fell back, no longer supported by the weight of the injured.

And kissed him, hard, on the mouth. If briefly.

“I think you are very attractive, Sheik. You should come down to the next crime scene. We can do this again.” He was sort of terrified the blonde would take offense to the action. But though he looked shocked, he let out a snort and jabbed his elbow into Dark’s stomach.

“Very likely. Get the fuck off of me.”

Cia was waiting for him back at their pre-approved safe house, arms folded and eyes narrowed and looking very pissed, because he was late, even if he’d remembered—barely—to grab their target.

“What were you doing?”

“Making friends?”

“Are you asking me, or telling me?” She demanded, but she pulled him into a tight hug, and guilt flashed through him—she’d been worried he’d been caught, or injured. Being late rarely meant anything but.

“Telling you.”

He pulled the shadows away from their target as he leaned into her embrace, before the man’s terror gave him a heart attack or something. The metal of her mask was pleasantly cool, even if its edges were razor-sharp, and the familiarity of it reminded him of what they were doing.

“You’ll tell me what happened tonight?”

“Yes, Mother.” As long as she promised not to tell anybody else. He still remembered what had happened the first time he’d tried dating, and…well. That would never happen again, as long as he had a say in it.

She regarded him, chaotic orbs still for a moment, and then brushed a stray lock of white hair off of her mask.

“Good.” She kissed his cheek, and pulled back. Their target was starting to regain his senses, inching closer to the wall and farther away from them.

Cia stopped him with a foot on his chest, a sweet smile on her lips. Dark leaned backwards, against the wall behind him, and let himself relax.

“I believe we have some talking to do, Doctor Renado.”


	3. Linkle Is Batman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Linkle is Batman, lipstick is questioned, and other heroes drop in to say hi.

               Linkle hit the ground hard, and she let out a string of curses that sent her attacker taking a half-step backwards, surprised, as she struggled to her feet.

“…Foul mouth for the Emerald Dart, hmm?” The Lord of Diamonds asked, tilting his head to the side as he dropped down beside his cohort. The Usurper seemed more confused by her outburst than anything else, and was still staring at her when she got to her feet.

“You need to talk to that Shadow about his naming thing. He’s terrible at it.”

“Do you have anything better, girl?” As always, they got defensive about the youngest member—as far as she could figure—of their gang.

“That’s besides the point.” Which was what she said every damn time they had this argument, which was about every damn time the assholes did something illegal and she needed to take care of it.

“Then you have no right to complain.” The Lord of Diamonds said, shrugging his shoulders daintily as he swept his fingers through his hair dramatically. And even though she’d promised herself she wouldn’t, she found herself asking anyway.

“So before I drop you off at the nearest prison, would you mind sharing some lipstick tips?” The Princess was going to kill her, but…well, it was worth asking. She and the Twilight Queen had had lengthy discussions about how fantastic the Lord of Diamond’s lipstick always was, even after a battle. Life goals, that.

His eyes—well, visible eye, anyway—widened dramatically for a moment, and then he grinned, preening beneath the attention. The Usurper turned to look at his companion, pupil-less orbs blinking like a lizard’s as he looked up.

Mad as a hatter, he was, but at least he was smart enough to see through the distraction. Which wasn’t really a distraction because she meant it, but the Princess never let any opportunity go to waste.

A blazing arrow slammed into the cement between the two criminals, and Linkle yanked her hood down, emerald magic flaring to life at her fingertips and glossing her vision in green lenses, keeping her from going blind at the Princess’s magic.

She was more… _manual_ than the Princess, or the Twilight Queen. She had magic, but she couldn’t utilize it much in the middle of a city, all cement and steel and glass. She needed natural things, animals and plants and live magic to manipulate great magics. Simple tricks could do very well, though, and she ran with Sheik when she wasn’t working out herself, to keep in shape.

So she wielded crossbows and used her magic for bolts, unless it was a long fight—she kept real arrows in a pair of quivers at her hips. Most of her prowess came from herself, not magic.

And that was a very good thing, because her magic had… _consequences._

“You said you could handle this.”

As usual, any respect she had for the Princess disappeared in about three seconds after the girl opened her mouth.

The Princess was as intimidating as she was regal. Golden hair pulled into two strands bound and weighted at the bottom with golden diamonds in the front, back pulled into a braid similarly weighted with a golden loop, there was never a strand out of place on her head. She wore short shorts with thigh-high metal heels and an armored golden corset and breastplate, arms covered in cloth and metal as well. A pale pink cowl covered the lower half of her face—the fabric wrapped loosely around her throat, but it was done seamlessly so that it wouldn’t come free—and solid golden eyes blazed out above them, pupil-less and iris-less, which was always unnerving. A bow made entirely of light was clutched in her hands, an arrow notched and glowing brilliantly already.

She had the best coordinated outfit out of any of them, except for the Twilight Queen. Linkle wore red shorts, high leather boots, and a white shirt beneath a short green hooded cape. All homemade. She’d inherited her grandmother’s skill with a needle, thank Farore. And she put it to damn good use.

“I am.”

“You always put me in a good mood, my dear. But your friend…” The Lord of Diamonds spat the last bit out, snapping his fingers. A flurry of red, white, yellow and black diamonds swallowed his hand and when they disappeared, he was holding a black sword with an intricate, strangely curved hilt.

“No, she irritates everyone, not just you.” Linkle sighed, and readied her crossbows.

She had had to take a very specific stance in her dealings with the crazies of Castle Town, she had learned very quickly. She’d seen the Lord of Diamonds commit atrocities to innocents simply because he could, seen the Usurper murder anyone that came too close to him in his madness, seen them blow up buildings and commit horrible crimes. But she kept that separate from her personal dealings with them, the banter and the fighting. There was something unreal about it, something that put distance between what they did and who they were when she was in the thick of the battle, when the thrill of the fight meant more than stopping them or killing them. Battle-lust, the Twilight Queen called it.

So, without all the crazy shit they did, she genuinely liked the Lord of Diamonds and his companion. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t stop them, or that she would allow them to do whatever it was they wanted. She would stop them.

And then maybe just…bother them later when they were in cuffs about their fashion stuff. Even the Usurper had good taste, though Linkle would never be able to pull off the fringed look he preferred.

“Where is the Hero?” The Lord of Diamonds asked, frowning at the two of them. Linkle shrugged, but before the movement was over, the Princess had loosed another arrow.

“You _bitch_ —“

“That was rather…unfair of you.” The Usurper interrupted, speaking slowly and lazily. He’d erected a shield that had deflected the arrow, a transparent black barrier laced with crimson markings, and without warning it was gone—and he was tackling the Princess, little more than a blur as he sent her flying back into the brick wall behind them.

Linkle did something very stupid then, and turned, surprised and more than a little excited to see if the Princess lost some of her composure at the sneak attack.  And then shrieked in surprise when a black blade slashed by her face, cutting a thin scratch along her cheek.

“ _Fuck_ , you almost gave me a fucking heart attack!” She gasped, turning to face her attacker.

“I do play to kill. You know that, don’t you?” And he sounded like he was seriously asking, looking almost unsure of it.

Linkle fired her crossbows, drawing a yelp of surprise from him as he teleported farther away—but she’d still hit him, and an identical cut marred his cheek. His eyes were wide, and she watched as he reached up, pressed a glove hand to his cheek and stared when it came away red with blood.

She usually tried to avoid his face. He got…more violent than he usual was, when anything happened to it—which was saying something.

“To be fair, you hit my face first.”

His eyes did that weird thing they did when he was beyond reason, where his pupils narrowed to little pinpricks threads of black began to creep across his otherwise pale skin.

And when he drew his arm back, obviously intended to lunge at her, a brilliant blaze of blue light slammed down on him from above.

The Hero had arrived, it seemed.

He wore a green mask over his eyes, similar to the one she wore—except hers was made of magic, ensuring it didn’t look stupidly awkward and always stayed on. His might have been too, as it looked similar, but he’d ensured that it was a solid, opaque piece of green glass-like material that never fell off. And Linkle and the Twilight Queen tried _hard_.

He wore tight tan skinny jeans with silver armor strapped on with dark brown leather, chain mail beneath a long green tunic, and heavy leather gauntlets with metal embedded in the knuckles. Dark brown leather straps crisscrossed his body, keeping the tunic and chainmail close to his body and offering a place for him to hang his shield and sword, when he wasn’t trying to stab things with them. A strange mash-up between what the legendary Hero of Old looked like and what any random teenager looked like, but on him, it worked.

Rumor said that, when the Master Sword had gone missing a few years back, the Hero had been the one to find it. He’d picked it up, and it had marked him, and refused to allow him to put it back in the museum where it was supposed to go. He’d once mentioned that the artifact had sort of kicked his sense of justice into overdrive, which was why he’d slapped on his stupid mask and started fighting crime. Linkle didn’t know how much of that was true or not, but he’d been the last of their little group to show up—appearing shortly after the Twilight Queen had made her first appearance to the public.

His sword was blazing with blue-green light, and the Lord of Diamonds’ blade was shrieking against its edge, multi-colored diamonds sparking like flames from the point of contact between the two swords. And then the Hero leapt backwards, landing just in front of Linkle.

“You okay?”

“Just a scratch. Where have you been?”

“Avoiding the Shadow.” He muttered, and raised his blade as the Lord charged. Linkle readied her crossbows and fire a handful of bolts at the man’s rapidly approaching figure, smirking at the Hero’s words.

All she knew about that particular mess was that the Shadow wanted to kill the Hero, and was more than a little obsessed with doing so. And that the Hero was rather difficult about fighting him—but for good reason. Things tended to spiral out of control once the two of them started going at it, and that usually made whatever dangerous situation they were in worse.

The Lord of Diamonds was usually very formidable in the state he was currently in, but with more than one adversary and his tendencies to just zero in on one person, it didn’t take long for the Hero to bash the back of his head with the hilt of his sword. The Lord’s legs gave out almost immediately, and he hit the ground hard.

Linkle twisted her fingers into a sharp, careful pattern at her hip and emerald magic shimmered into existence around his wrists, encasing both of his hands before solidifying.

“Went down easy today.” The Hero muttered, and his magic burned sharply against hers for a second as he reinforced it—not that Linkle needed the help, but they’d learned not to take chances when dealing with the Lord of Diamonds.

Not for the first time, she was struck by just how similar his power was to hers, and eyeballed him critically as she shrugged.

Behind them, the Princess was still struggling with the Usurper.

“They were just distracting us today.”

“How can you tell?”

“The Shadow’s floating over by the mall with the Witch and our favorite Queen.”

“…How do you know that?”

Fucking _men_.

“Go help the Princess handle her end of the stick. I can keep the Lord tied up.” He stopped, turned and looked at her flatly.

“This isn’t one of those sexist things is it? You’re not going to get pissed that if I say sure and go on some rant about how by leaving you to do the babysitting I’m perpetuating—“

“No, you dumbass, she’s just more bitchy than usual today and she’s only said like, three words to me. I’ll shoot her before I shoot the criminal.”

The Hero was quiet for a moment, then dipped his head, sheathing his blade.

“I resent being saddled with the babysitting duty, but I do have to say, she’s usually pretty civil. She just doesn’t like social-ing or anything.”

“Social-ing?” Linkle repeated, choosing to ignore how he’d come to the Princess’s defense.

She didn’t know any of the other ‘heroes’ outside of them doing their job, and she didn’t intend to. But still, it rankled, this stupid little drama and the side-taking that wasn’t really side-taking.  Mostly because she hated catching herself doing it, how ridiculously furious she got over such dumb, trivial little things that were, most of the time, unintentional.

Not that she would ever mention it to anyone, _ever_. Zelda had once said it was a woman thing, but that was bullshit. Sheik got just as worked up as she did over stupid things too. And so did Link, but Link had the common sense to never talk about it ever. Linkle had been trying on that, but having Midna and Sheik as best friends sort of negated it. Bad influences, those two.

The Hero shrugged, and then jogged off, following the sounds of screeching and the blast of arrows behind them.

Linkle leaned against the wall behind her, and shrugged when the Lord of Diamond’s furious gaze met hers, an almost exact replica of the Hero’s gesture.

“What can I say? He’s a good side-kick.”

“Bullshit.”


	4. They Have A Sleepover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a sleepover.

               Zelda woke up to Sheik’s fingers tapping quietly on the carpet in front of her, his entire frame squished between hers and Link’s. His head was pressed against Link’s chest and other hand looped around her wrist, pressed against her pulse gently.

Midna was draped across the three of them in her pajamas, Linkle’s arm hanging over the edge of the couch, t-shirt bunched up around her stomach and blanket only covering her feet. She had a pair of boxers on, thank the Three, covered in fanged remlits.

They had piled eight sleeping bags on the floor, all of them unzipped and spread out, in lieu of an air mattress, and then covered that in comforters, quilts, throws, and every spare pillow in the house. Probably the neighborhood. Popcorn blanketed the living room, and the television was still on, replaying the main menu cutscene for _ReDead Redemption_ in an endless loop. Somebody had muted it, thank Nayru, but the light bathed everything in a red sheen.

A glance at the clock ticking softly on the wall above Linkle revealed that it was three in the afternoon, and Zelda’s gaze dropped to Sheik’s mostly still form, worried.

It had taken _hours_ to get him to calm down. Horror movie after horror movie after horror movie—Zelda had dropped off at around six in the morning, unable to stay awake any longer—and Link had had to take each of them aside and explain what had happened, because if Sheik had told them it would have agitated him further.

He was scared. Terrified. She’d never seen him like that before. He wasn’t scared of… _anything._

She’d thought he was, when they were younger. A few times. But he’d proved her wrong without fail. Being thrust into a family of strangers who spoke a different language in a foreign country hadn’t scared him at all. Working with the dead and handling corpses didn’t even faze him. Seeing things that shouldn’t exist, either.

But she thought she understood. The one thing Sheik valued above all else was his privacy. And this stalker was invading that in every way possible.

She still wished he’d let her call the police. Or even their uncle. Ganondorf would be able to help, Zelda was sure of it.

Something shifted, snapping her out of her thoughts, and Midna winced as she wiggled off of everyone. Zelda reached out a hand and helped her plop down beside her, lips quirking up into a smile when Midna looped an arm around Zelda’s waist and threw a blanket over the two of them with a sigh.

“I am sorry, about the pants thing. I swear to the Three that it was because of the juice box.” Midna murmured, and Zelda sighed.

That hadn’t been good. Sheik had been more in a panic about that then the stalker, when he’d realized she was there.  Boundaries were a huge deal for him, because he had a hard time even understanding them, and the sibling thing made him overly anxious about every little slip. He hadn’t believed that it was a relatively normal thing, siblings walking in on each other, until Linkle had gone on a rant about every little thing she’d ever caught Link doing. Horribly embarrassing for Link, but it had worked.

“It was pretty clear nothing was going on.”

Zelda was only slightly lying. She knew they’d slept together before, though she didn’t know if they still were—she was _not_ going there with her best friend _or_ her brother—and that _had_ been her first thought, but the absolute panic in Sheik’s face and the embarrassment in Midna’s had been more than enough to tell her that that wasn’t the case.

Midna was _never_ embarrassed about _anything_ intentional.

“That is why I love you.” She muttered, and then relaxed completely against Zelda.

The corners of her lips pulled up into a smile, and she pressed her face closer to Sheik’s back in turn.

He shifted, let go of her wrist and turned to face her, and Link’s eyes cracked open looking like they could kill.

Linkle whined, in turn, and rolled off of the couch, dropping right on top of him. Because apparently everyone was waking up now.

“Morning, baby brother.”

“Where are your pants?” Link growled, not even looking up completely. Linkle paused for a moment, regarded herself seriously, and then shrugged.

“These work.”

“Linkle—“

“They’re like shorts, Link. Now don’t be an ass so early in the morning.”

“It’s three. Afternoon.” Zelda corrected, and Linkle let out a whine.

“I’m going to do absolutely nothing done today.”

 “…Thank you, all of you.” Sheik’s voice was soft, and at the sound of it they all forgot their bickering.

“We’ll go check your place out today, if that’s alright. Figure out where the fucker got in from. If you want to stay over here, that’ll be fine, Sheik.” Link didn’t move at all as he spoke.

Zelda sat up, ruffling her brother’s hair.

“We’re doing something. We’ll talk to your landlord. Maybe they can install a camera in the lobby?”

Though it was strained, Sheik smiled.

“Any suspects, though?” Linkle asked.

“Well if you’re not fucking with me, no.” Sheik retorted. He didn’t sound as defensive as he could have—Zelda took that as a good sign.

“Maybe it’s…somebody who doesn’t know how to flirt? Like a neighbor or something?” Midna ventured.

“I doubt somebody would start stalking another person if they weren’t trying to flirt. Or intimidate.” Linkle scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. Sheik scowled.

“I don’t—“

“Here, let’s…plan. We’ll go check your apartment and stuff, and I can lend you my shitty camera. We can hide it in the lobby, or like…in the back of your mailbox!” Linkle interrupted, smacking Link as she scrambled to her feet. Link let out a groan.

“You can stay with me tonight, Sheik.”

Sheik’s expression smoothed out, the tension in his eyes fading, as he turned to look at her. Zelda lifted an eyebrow, but he suddenly scowled again.

“Not if Syrup’s in town.”

Well. She’d forgotten about that. The family drama of the _living_ sort.

“…Alright. I can stay with you.”

It still felt strange to say, to _risk_ , to admit. Everyone’s eyes found their way to her face, and she flushed beneath the attention.

And Sheik smiled, brilliant and so hopeful that it hurt. That it eased all her anxieties.

“Alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY. Next chapter will start hammering some things out for you all, explanations and so on. No clue how long it will take to get out because I am having Issues right now, but it will happen eventually!


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